


A Long Way Home

by ideserveyou



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: Angst, Battle, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Canon, Slash, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideserveyou/pseuds/ideserveyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Kai are on their way home from a battle, and they have a long way to go before their journey is truly over...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s cold, and it’s a long way home. Much further than Kai remembers from the journey out, when the moon was high and bright.

He and the other young men riding with Arthur sang brave songs on their way to the battlefield: songs of glorious victories that were past, in hopes of the glorious victory that was to come.

Llud had glared round at them once or twice from his position at the head of the war-band, and when they still had four or five leagues to go, he had bidden them all be silent.

‘Time enough to sing of victory when we’ve won it,’ he said sternly. ‘And in any event, it most likely won’t be glorious. Now shut your mouths and save your strength for the battlefield.’

And of course, being Llud, he was right: the Celts won a victory today, but it wasn’t glorious. It was muddy and brutal and confusing and noisy, and it stank of blood, and sweat, and the shit of terrified men and animals.

The Celtic horsemen had silently surrounded the little Saxon settlement, newly sprung up in an area of territory hitherto unoccupied. ‘They’re like weeds,’ Llud had said as the battle-plans were laid the night before. ‘Pull them out by the roots, before they grow bigger, and spread their seeds throughout the clean ground.’

But the Saxons’ roots had grown deep, even after so short a time, and despite being taken unawares by the carefully planned dawn raid, they had fought hard and well.

It had taken all morning to pin them back to a defensive ring surrounding one of the few huts left standing; as the winter sun gleamed thinly on yellow thatch and yellow hair, they had closed in to pick the Saxons off one by one.

Kai had been in the thick of it all; his new axe, as yet untried in battle, light and fluent in his hand. He’d had a point to prove, to ally and enemy alike: Kai is no Saxon. And he’d proved it, over and over again, rewarded by a clout on the shoulder from Llud, a dazzling smile from Arthur, as the axe sang through the air and one after another, his enemies fell.

Then a child had come forth from the house: a little boy, perhaps nine or ten summers old. Inside, a woman was screaming: a thin high sound, but the boy stood there, just stood and looked, whether dazed or fearless Kai could not tell.

And then, a thing unheard-of: Llud’s sword wavered in his hand, and Arthur shouted ‘No,’ even as the axe swung down.

Kai’s not sure whether he meant to hit or miss, if he is honest with himself; but Arthur and Llud need not know that.

Not that it mattered much, for Conn’s long-sword found its target a split-second later. Then there was no time for thought, for the child’s father, a great red-haired hulk of a man, came raging on at them, with the screaming woman behind him throwing rocks and pots – whatever came to hand. It took three Celtic warriors to kill the man, and three more to subdue the woman.

‘She would not have been harmed.’

Arthur said that, over and over, as they dug the pit, and laid her lifeless body in it, along with that of the menfolk. She need not have fallen on her man’s dagger.

But perhaps it was better that way.

The remaining Saxons – just three – had been offered a chance of surrender; they’d refused, fighting on, back-to-back, till they were overwhelmed.

‘Not a pretty day’s work,’ Llud had said, as they dug and toiled and salvaged what useful goods they could from the wreckage. ‘But it had to be done.’

His face was set in a grim line; Arthur’s still grimmer.

One day it will be Arthur who has to make such decisions: between life and death, for the Celts and for the Saxons, who after all are people too.

Conn had sniggered as Llud laid the boy’s small body next to those of his parents. Sniggered, and muttered something about ‘Saxon brats’ behind his hand to Niall.

Arthur drew a sharp breath and whipped round. ‘It’s not funny!’ He struck Conn a savage blow across the face that felled him like a tree, and left him with a cut cheekbone and a swollen black eye to remind him of his misdeed. ‘It could as well have been your son we buried today, and you know it.’

It seemed that the lines of sorrow around Llud’s wise eyes grew a little deeper as he shook his head at Arthur, but he did not rebuke him.

It was growing dusk by the time the Celts set out for home again, not wanting to linger; they may have left no survivors, but it will be only a matter of time before Cerdig’s spies learn what happened here; when he does, the Celts had best all be safe home in their own territory.

But it’s a long way home …

The light from the torch at the head of the party is wavering in the distance. Kai must have taken a wrong turning, or he’s walking very slowly. The horses are all at the front, bearing the injured; those who are still sound – no matter that they are bone-weary and aching in every muscle – those men must walk.

‘Hey, wait for me.’

His voice sounds strange; as though he’s under water.

A high-pitched whining sounds in his ears; the trunks of the trees are wavering in the moonlight.

Then he’s looking up at the stars, and his head hurts, and he’s very cold, and wet all over.

The whining is still filling his head; the wind in the trees sounds distant and muffled.

Arthur is there, bending low, holding a torch.

‘Kai?’

‘Over here.’ It comes out as a vague mumble, as though he’s drunk.

‘Kai!’

Arthur has seen him; Arthur is coming for him. It’s going to be all right now.

There is a bright light behind his eyelids, and the stars go out.

……………………….

‘Aaaah –'

‘Good, you’re awake. No, don’t try to move yet, drink this.’

Mead, fiery and sweet, and a gentle hand cradling the back of his head as Arthur tilts the bottle against his lips.

‘Thank you.’ He chokes. ‘What – what happened?’

‘You over-reached your strength.’

Arthur sits beside him; he’s propped against a fallen trunk, the bark rough and solid against his back.

‘I’m fine –‘

‘You are not. You’re only three days risen from your bed after that fever. I should never have persuaded Llud to let you come.’

‘I’m glad you did. I couldn’t have borne to be left behind.’

‘There will be other battles. Plenty of them.’ Arthur sounds grim and weary. ‘And now I’ve placed you in danger. We’re still in enemy territory.’

‘And you came back alone?’

‘Why risk more men to remedy my own error? I gave Llud orders to see the others safe home.’

‘He’ll come back to look for us …’

‘Yes, but likely not until the morning. And by then, we’d better be off this hillside and back in our own lands.’

‘Best get started, then.’ Kai braces his legs under him; they feel insubstantial as smoke. ‘I might need a little help.’

‘You have it.’ Arthur stands up; pulls Kai to his feet and wraps an arm around him to steady him. ‘Come on.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Forwards. One step at a time. That’s all you need to know.’

‘Don’t treat me like a child –’

‘Don’t behave like one, then.’ Arthur’s tone is sharp. ‘I can’t have you giving up. Just keep taking the next step, and let me worry about how far it is.’

‘I won’t give up… what sort of weakling do you take me for?’

Arthur sighs heavily. ‘Not a weakling, Kai. A warrior at the end of his strength, that’s all. One I would risk my life to save. Now, lean on me. That’s it… One step at a time.’

Risk his life? Kai steals a glance at Arthur’s resolute face. He’s never thought of it like that. He’s always known Arthur liked him; would be there to get him out of trouble, or stand beside him in a fight – and there were many fights. A Saxon child raised in a Celtic village was bound to be unpopular with some. But this, this is new, and despite the cold Kai feels a warmth at his heart.

He leans on Arthur, and takes the first step.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur has come back for Kai, but there's a long way to go yet...

‘I can’t go on.’

‘Just one more step – ’

‘My legs won’t move. And I can’t feel my feet any more.’ Kai heaves for breath in the icy night air, his throat aching as he tries to hold back tears of exhaustion and self-pity. ‘I can’t, I tell you.’

‘I’m sorry, Kai. You can, and you will. I won’t leave you, but we cannot stop here.’

This is why, as their leader, he will inspire such loyalty: his compassion, his authority, his indomitable spirit.

This is why his men love him.

Why Kai loves him.

Kai takes the next step.

‘Well done.’ Arthur tightens his grip around Kai’s waist. ‘A few more steps, and we’ll be in Garet’s territory. I can see the boundary stone.’

‘Are we going to Garet’s village?’ Kai’s heart sinks again. It’s a long way, and the hills are steep.

‘No. There’s a cave just over this next ridge that’ll shelter us for the rest of the night.’

‘If it’s not already sheltering wild boar, or wolves.’

‘If it is, then we’ll drive them out.’

Arthur sounds confident, but do two exhausted youngsters really stand a chance of evicting a wild boar comfortably bedded down for the night? Kai hopes they won’t have to find out.

…

Their refuge, when they finally stagger inside, proves to harbour nothing worse than a pile of dry leaves blown in by the wind. Kai breathes a prayer of thanks to all the gods as he sinks down and wraps himself in his cloak.

Arthur kneels beside him and takes the cloak off him again.

‘Hey.’ Kai’s teeth are chattering. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

‘We’ll be warmer if we share,’ Arthur says patiently.

He lies down beside Kai and pulls both cloaks over them.

It’s warmer, but it’s still not enough. Kai shivers uncontrollably; Arthur rolls over and holds him, pressing close against his chilled body until the tremors stop.

It’s no more than Arthur being practical; no more than a way for two tired brothers to get some rest. No more than there will ever be. But oh, if it could only be like this every night…

Arthur is breathing evenly in sleep before Kai has a chance to say even a word of thanks, and it’s not long before Kai too is asleep, Arthur’s arm still clasped firmly around him.

…

Kai dreams of the Saxon child, gazing at him wide-eyed from the hut doorway. Then it’s the Longhouse doorway, and he is looking out from it. The yard is packed with Celts, all armed and all looking at him with hatred. Arthur stands among them, his head bowed and his dark hair hiding his face. The ring of warriors closes in, and Kai has a sudden, terrible fear that in a moment Arthur will look up, and the same hatred will be in his eyes…

Arthur wakes him in the cold dawn light; Kai clings to his brother’s hand, still in the grip of the dream-fear. ‘They’re coming – they’re coming after me...’

‘There’s no-one here. Kai, look at me.’

But Kai can’t. What if the dream were true – or what if Arthur should despise him for his weakness? ‘I was the child,’ he whispers, ‘with enemies all around… Celts…’ He can’t bear to tell Arthur that he was one of those enemies. He looks at the floor, shaking. ‘Their eyes – ’

‘Kai.’ Arthur grips him by the shoulder. ‘Let it go. Stop thinking about it. It was just a dream.’

‘Was it?’ Kai asks bitterly.

‘What do you mean?’

Kai snorts. ‘Oh, come on, Arthur, you saw… I’m an outsider, I don’t fit. And yesterday I felt it, and I know Llud did too. Your war-band will be weakened, so long as your men look on me with doubt.’ He heaves a harsh breath. ‘Perhaps I should leave.’

‘Leave?’ Arthur looks stunned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kai, you can’t leave. We need you. I need you. As to what the men think…’ His nostrils flare with indignation. ‘I’ll have the last word, if any man dare speak out against you. And you know Llud has never doubted you.’

‘But, Arthur…’ Kai’s throat is tight. ‘Do you see me that way? As a Saxon, as an enemy?’

Arthur takes a deep breath before answering. ‘As a Saxon… yes. Given that you cling to your Saxon clothes, and your axe, I could hardly do otherwise. But as an enemy, never. Never from the first day Llud brought you to us.’

‘It’s a pity the others don’t all think as you do.’

‘They do not know you as I do.’ Arthur looks earnestly into Kai’s face. ‘As a brother, as a friend, as…’

‘As … something more?’ Kai can barely speak for the tumult of hope and fear rushing through him.

‘More?’

‘Never mind.’ Kai turns away. ‘Forget I said –’

Arthur reaches out; touches a fingertip to the corner of Kai’s lips. Kai feels as though his whole body is melting; as though he’ll never be cold again.

He dares to look round; Arthur’s blue gaze holds him, sees right through him… but does not condemn him.

Kai cannot, dare not speak, watching Arthur’s face as he considers this new challenge.

Then Arthur smiles. ‘Llud always said, every journey begins with the first step.’

Kai nods, breathless with hope.

Arthur takes his hand. ‘Then let us take that step. Together.’

‘Together,’ Kai agrees, and he too is smiling now.

They seal their pact with a kiss, just a brief press of lips, but never has Kai known such a kiss: such closeness with the one he loves most in the world, so much conveyed without need of words.

Arthur’s breath is warm on Kai’s cheek; his hair brushes Kai’s neck.

Kai could stay like this forever, in utter bliss, despite the chill of the morning air and the hunger gnawing at his guts; but all too soon Arthur gets to his feet and hauls Kai up after him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai is safe in the Longhouse, but is he really safe?

_The path trails away into the mist, climbing, always climbing, over steep black rocks slippery with ice. Arthur has gone ahead, to scout the way; no matter how hard Kai tries, he cannot close the distance between them. With every step Kai is slowing, dropping further and further behind, with no breath left to cry out ‘Wait!’_

And now Arthur has turned a corner, and Kai cannot see him at all...

 

‘You were dreaming.’

A firm hand is resting on Kai’s shoulder.

Kai blinks, and turns his head. It takes a surprising effort. ‘Llud?’

‘The very same.’ His father is smiling. ‘I’m glad to see that you know me this morning.’

‘How – how long?’ Kai’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth; the dream is still half in his mind, clouding his senses.

Llud considers. ‘Three. No, four days.’

‘Four _days?_ ’ Kai struggles to sit up. ‘Where is Arthur? Is he –’

Llud helps him to lean against the head of the bed. ‘Don’t worry. Nothing is amiss with Arthur. He’s at weapons practice with the others, as he should be... Here, drink this.’

Kai shakes his head. ‘Arthur, I must see Arthur –’

‘Drink.’ Llud’s voice brooks no argument. ‘That’s it, son. Get it down you.’

Meekly, Kai drinks: warm milk, with a bitter but reassuring aftertaste of healing herbs.

As he hands the cup back to Llud, he sees that his father’s face is more lined than usual, and there are dark shadows beneath his eyes.

‘You feared for my life,’ Kai says.

‘We did.’ A frown passes across Llud’s brow, a memory of a fear now past. ‘You were very sick. If you hadn’t come home when you did, you might not have come home at all...’

He shakes his head; sets the cup back on the table. ‘But it doesn’t do to be thinking like that, not now you’re mending.’

‘I... will be well again soon?’

‘Very soon, I promise you. No, no, don’t try to get up. You’re still weak from the fever... Lie down again and rest quiet, and I’ll go and find your brother. He’ll be glad to know you’re back with us.’

The room feels very empty when Llud has gone; almost, Kai calls him back again.

A horse whinnies in the yard; there is a murmur of voices, the clatter of a pail, the creak of a hut door closing.

Familiar sounds: the sounds of home.

A home it had seemed they’d never reach.

Kai isn’t entirely sure how they did reach it. By noon of the day they left their cave refuge, the fever was already burning up him again: reclaiming him, weakening his muscles and clouding his mind. Of the rest of their journey, he recalls only snatches: a deep snowdrift, a too-short rest under an oak tree, the twisted, frozen corpse of a stray Saxon cow...

But one thing he does remember clearly – that Arthur was a constant source of strength, chiding and encouraging him by turns, lending a shoulder when Kai’s frozen feet stumbled and his legs would not hold him up.

Arthur, the Bear. Never giving up; never giving in.

When they finally tottered into the village, Llud wasted no time, simply hustled them into the Longhouse.

Kai was barely through the door when everything went dark.

Then... Kai shakes his head, trying to clear it. There was the rough warmth of sheepskins, the bitterness of a poppy-draught, and waking in the small hours from an evil dream, to see Arthur slumped in exhausted sleep in the big chair by the bed.

That he does remember. But the rest? The cave, and what happened there... did he dream that press of lips?

He has to talk to Arthur, to be sure.

He closes his eyes, and waits.

_He is gripping Arthur’s hand tight, as though it’s the only thing that’ll keep him from drifting away into the endless whiteness of the snow. Hold on, hold on... Arthur’s hand feels cold, wet and slick in his grasp. He looks down, and his heart turns to ice. Arthur’s arm is severed at the shoulder, dark blood oozing down his sleeve. Arthur himself is drifting away into the dark. ‘When the arm is poisoned, the arm is cut off,’ he says in a dreary monotone. Kai screams; he tries to let go, but the rigid dead fingers clutch him in a death-grip, he cannot get free –_

‘You were dreaming.’

This time, it’s Arthur’s hand that rests on Kai’s shoulder.

‘Arthur –’ Kai chokes, and reaches up to cover Arthur’s hand with his own.  
‘What was it?’ Arthur’s fingers are warm, their touch reassuring. ‘No, never mind, don’t tell me, I don’t need to know. It’s just good to have you back.’

‘It’s... good to be back.’ Kai tries to smile. ‘If it were not for you...’

‘I did only what was needful.’

‘I seem to remember you did rather more than that.’

Arthur won’t meet his eyes, and Kai is suddenly unsure of his ground.

‘I didn’t mean –’

Arthur grins. ‘Well, I couldn’t leave my right-hand man lying in a snowdrift, could I? And Llud would never have let me forget it. You know how he lectures. “Losing a man in battle is bad. But losing a man after the battle is twenty times worse.” I’d never have heard the last of it.’

His tone is light; teasing. Much as it used to be, before...

But Kai is not as he was before. For him, all has changed, though Arthur doesn’t seem to realise it, and carries on talking and talking: the small news of the village, his own exploits on the practice ground that morning, the high spirits of his horse...

Kai listens and listens, and the hope dies in his heart. All he cares about is what passed between them in that cave, but Arthur doesn’t mention it, and Kai cannot, for fear that he might indeed have been dreaming.

Perhaps, even if it was not a dream, Arthur has reconsidered; or worse, maybe he was just humouring Kai all along, to keep him from giving up before they reached home.

‘Kai?’ Arthur stands up. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve tired you out, you were miles away just then. Here, let me sort those blankets out for you... Now get some more sleep, you obviously need it. And try not to dream. I’ll see you later.’

Arthur’s footsteps die away.

You were dreaming, Kai tells himself.

It was a dream, the cave, the kiss, the words they spoke. Their fine talk of a new path before them, of a first step that they would take together. Now they’re home; back in the real world, where things cannot be so simple.

Kai doesn't know how he's going to carry on. One step at a time, he supposes. And alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Kai reach an understanding. Under a tree.

The sound of an axe-blow jolts Kai awake, heart pounding.

Even though it’s been months since the battle, and the bitter winter has given way to a mild and blustery spring, he still isn’t sleeping soundly; any unfamiliar noise wakens him, and all too often the evil dreams still pursue him through the night.

But worse even than the nightmares are the dreams where he and Arthur are together: where Arthur smiles lovingly at him, reaches for him, lies down with him...

Dreams from which Kai always wakes too soon, with an ache in his groin and in his heart.

Dreams that give way to a reality in which Arthur is kind to him – brotherly, even – but nothing more.

The axe falls again, but now Kai knows it for a woodsman’s axe, not a battleaxe.

He drags on some clothing and goes outside.

Arthur is on the far side of the yard, stripped to the waist, chopping wood.

His dark hair tumbles into his eyes with each stroke; a sheen of sweat glistens on his chest and shoulders.

Kai stands in the doorway, watching and longing.

Arthur looks up, and sees him, and grins. ‘Hey, two axes would get through this lot faster than one, you know.’

Kai feels his face redden. He picks up another axe, and goes over to lend a hand; not looking at Arthur, concentrating on the axe and where it falls, splitting the wood cleanly and with the least effort, as Llud taught them both.

After a while Kai draws a deep breath and says: ‘Arthur.’

‘Yes?’ Arthur doesn’t look up from his work.

‘I – I would speak with you.’

‘Kai, you speak with me every day. Why the formality?’ Arthur gives a small, nervous laugh.

‘I mean –’ Kai strikes another blow, splitting the next log in two; wipes the sweat from his forehead ‘– curse it, Arthur, you must know what I mean.’

Arthur splits another log, very precisely; selects the next, positions it. ‘The cave?’ he asks, still without looking up.

‘Yes,’ Kai mutters between clenched teeth.

Arthur’s axe comes down again. ‘I have not forgotten, Kai.’

‘But you have changed your mind.’ The bitterness wells up; the evil taste of the nightmares, the frustration of the dreams.

‘Haven’t you?’

‘No! But you’ve given me no cause to believe you felt the same, these past weeks. Why did you leave me wondering?’

‘You were... not well. Not strong.’

Kai snorts. ‘That story won’t wash. Tell me a better one. See? I am strong now.’ He picks a bigger log; splits it with a single angry blow. ‘Well?’

‘I was waiting,’ Arthur says softly.

‘Waiting for what? For me to speak? Kai’s anger and fear boil over. ‘Well, now I’ve spoken. Saved your pride. Gods damn it, do I have to crawl and beg as well? Come on, then, tell me where I stand, cleave my heart along with this firewood and let it burn.’

‘Kai, calm yourself.’ Arthur puts down his axe; takes Kai’s out of his hand. ‘That temper of yours... Walk with me.’

‘Arthur, I have to _know_ – ’

‘Walk with me.’ Arthur has regained his tone of authority. ‘There are many eyes here in the yard. Let us go down to the river.’

Many eyes there may be, but Kai pays them no mind as he and Arthur walk out of the gate. He wouldn’t care if the whole village were watching them – Gods’ truth, he’d fling himself at Arthur’s feet in front of the whole village, if he could be certain that Arthur would stretch out a hand and raise him up again. If he could be certain...

Arthur is walking beside him, so close that Kai can smell the sharp tang of his sweat, yet remote, unreachable.

Kai’s impatience almost chokes him. As soon as the willows by the river hide the village from sight, he says again: ‘Arthur...’

Arthur stops, and heaves a sigh. ‘The dreams,’ he says.

‘The dreams?’

‘The nightmares, then.’ Arthur frowns. ‘They still trouble you. I’ve heard you, at night, and I thought perhaps what I said – what we said – might be the cause, and that I had best wait until they ceased. Then I would know you were fully recovered, enough to be burdened with...’

‘Burdened!’

‘What?’

You thought -?’ Kai can’t help laughing.

‘Oh.’ Understanding dawns in Arthur’s dark eyes. ‘As Llud would say, it seems I was riding this horse into battle arse-end first.’

‘Just so long as you don’t do it in a real battle.’

Though the joke is weak, they both splutter with laughter. Then they meet each other’s eyes, and give way completely to their mirth.

‘I needed that,’ Kai says, leaning against a willow trunk and wiping his streaming eyes on his forearm.

‘We both did.’ Arthur heaves a deep sigh. ‘It’s been a long winter, and there’s been little enough cause to laugh.’

Kai puts a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. ‘But now it’s spring.’

‘And you and I need wait no longer, to take that next step we promised each other.’

‘Together.’

Arthur nods. His face is very close to Kai’s. ‘Together,’ he whispers, and winds his fingers into Kai’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

This time, it is more than just a brief touch.

Impatient for more contact, Kai drags his shirt off over his head; flings it aside.

Arthur sets his hands on Kai’s shoulders, pushing him against the rough bark of the tree. ‘See, my heart,’ he says, between fierce kisses, ‘I have not – changed – my mind.’

He presses close to Kai’s body; their sweat-slick skin sticks together, their hands tangle in each other’s hair.

Kai is breathless with relief, excitement, longing; with the joy of finding that he has everything, after so long thinking that he had nothing at all.

‘What do you want, Kai?’ Arthur whispers. ‘What would you have us do now?’

Kai looks into Arthur’s eyes. ‘In this, as in all else, I will follow where you lead.’

‘And if... I am not quite certain of the way?’ Arthur bites at his lip, a habit he’s kept since childhood.

‘I will still follow,’ Kai tells him, smiling. ‘You’ve never led me wrong yet. And I don’t want to waste another moment.’

‘Then don’t.’ Arthur’s hands are at Kai’s waist, fumbling with his belt buckle. ‘We have waited far too long already. No, I have waited far too long. When I could have been doing... this...’

He pushes Kai’s breeches down to his knees; wraps his hand around Kai’s cock. 

‘Yes,’ Kai breathes, and reaches down to grab Arthur’s arse, to cup its taut, warm roundness in both hands.

Arthur grips him tighter; moves his hand slowly, up and down, as Kai thrusts helplessly against him, unable to hold back.

‘Kiss me,’ Arthur commands, and Kai obeys, no thought in his mind but Arthur, Arthur, Arthur...

And then he’s crying Arthur’s name out loud, and coming into his hands, and all too soon it’s over and he’s leaning against the willow tree, trying to get his breath back.

‘Thank you,’ he gasps, when he can speak again. ‘And you? What about –’

Arthur gives a brilliant smile, undoes his own breeches and pushes them down, letting his prick spring free: letting Kai look at him. ‘Please,’ he murmurs.

Kai has dreamed of this: waking dreams, filled with longing and despair, fuelled by stolen glimpses of Arthur’s unclothed body. So many times he’s imagined the sight of Arthur hard for him, the heat of Arthur’s flesh against his palm...

When he reaches for him, the the ecstatic glow in Arthur’s eyes, and the little gasp he makes when he first feels Kai’s hand on him – these are new, and real.

This is no dream. This is better than any dream.

Kai bends to kiss Arthur again, and Arthur whimpers and presses close, his cock pulsing in Kai’s hand, warm wetness spreading over Kai’s fingers.

They hold each other tight while Arthur’s breathing calms.

At length Arthur heaves a sigh, and steps back. He’s going to say something, but he staggers and falls, entangled in his half-removed breeches.

Kai snorts with laughter. ‘Trying to run before you can walk? I thought we agreed, one step at a time.’

Arthur grins. ‘Help me up, then. We also agreed, together.’

‘Together,’ Kai says, pretending to think hard about it, his head cocked on one side. ‘Yes, I like the sound of that.’

Smiling, he holds out his hand to Arthur.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to trepkos for support, beta-reading and nagging without which this would never have been finished!


End file.
